Emm

Day 13 after Brokentower 

“I will never, ever, ever like you,” I say. “You can’t make me be your friend.”

For once, Twesnyu looks like she might actually listen and leave me alone. She almost looks sad, but I know better than to believe her. Not after everything she’s done.

She narrows her eyes at me and tilts her head. She starts to grin like we’re joking around. Her smile just gets wider and wider until it looks creepy.

“Come on, bestie,” she taunts. “Why would I need to make you like me? What I need is for you to do cool sword stuff with me.”

“I don’t care,” I tell her. “Get out of my house. You should have never given me that stupid sword. I’m a kid! What am I supposed to do with a sword?”

That seems to stump her for a minute. She frowns at me and flops down on my bed. She pulls my sword out from under the mattress and stares at her.

“Hey!” I complain. “Get off my bed. I never said you could use my sword.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” says my sword “She can use me. Be nice!”

“I don’t understand why you’re confused,” says Twes. She squints at me. “You’re supposed to do cool sword stuff with a sword. You know, like, you fight monsters and stuff.”

“And magic,” says my sword. “You should do magic with me, too.”

“Then Twes can take you and go fight the monsters,” I say. “I don’t want you and I don’t want to fight monsters. Have you seen monsters? I have, and I’m smart enough not to fight them.”

“That’s not how this works, you brat,” says my sword.

“I know I can’t make you believe me,” sighs Twes. “But if you remembered what happened at Brokentower… well, you’d understand why I had to give you the sword. And you kinda did agree to take her… more or less.”

“You’re right,” I say. “You can’t make me believe you. Now get off my bed, get out of my room, and take the stupid sword with you when you go.”

“How does a medieval brat even get her own bedroom?” grumbles my sword.

But I should be the one grumbling. I’m not sure what she means by “medieval,” but I have figured out that I shouldn’t ask or she’ll make fun of me.

Whatever. I don’t see why I shouldn’t have my own bedroom. It wouldn’t make sense if I was the only girl at my school without one.

“Let’s make a wager,” says Twes. “If you’re sure that I can’t convince you then you’ll be willing to bet on it. You’ll agree to come look at the problem with me. If you look at the problem and still don’t want to fix it then I’ll go home and I’ll take your sword with me.”

Hmm. I know Twesnyu’s a liar, but I really want her to leave me alone. I shouldn’t agree to her terms.

“What if I look at your problem and I want to fix it, but I want to fix it without acting like a sword-crazy idiot?”

“Nothing would happen,” says Twes. “I mean, I would offer to help you fix the problem, but you could still tell me to leave if you want to.”

I frown and think about it. I can’t see the downside.

“Fine,” I say. “I agree. You won’t be able to convince me of anything.”

Twesnyu waits for me just outside the west gate out of Camhas. She’s wearing the same clothes as before: dark flexible trousers and a top, reinforced by leather that you can remove for washing. Her cousin told me that her dad bought her those clothes to use to train with her tutors.

I’m just wearing the exercise shorts and top my dad made me for school. I sent Twesnyu ahead so I could change and she wouldn’t see how clumsy I’ve become since Brokentower. Luckily, I can still tie drawstrings without much of a problem.

I think about what it would be like if my parents were rich and powerful enough to hire tutors, and train me to fight, and buy me armored clothes to practice in. I could have a servant to dress me so I didn’t have to worry. But on the other hand, mom says I’m better off growing up without a lot of money because it makes me more sensible. She also says that we’re as rich as we can be without dad becoming a terrible person.

I’m carrying my sword in her scabbard. I had to wrap her up in a sash so nobody would see her on my way out of town. Twesnyu is carrying a walking stick, and has some kind of weapon hanging off her belt behind her.

“What do you have?” I ask her.

“What?” she says.

“Tell me what kind of weapon you brought to fight with. Do you plan to just hand a kid a freaking sword and send her off to fight for you?”

Twesnyu frowns at me, then responds.

“We’re only, like, barely kids. Pretty soon we’ll come of age, and we should be ready to act like adults.”

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“But I’m still a kid, so I should still act like a kid?

“Why do you keep talking about your age like that. You’re older than me—almost by a whole year. If you shouldn’t have a sword then I shouldn’t either.”

“Yeah,” I tell her. “Because neither of us should have a sword! It’s a sword! Who gives a kid a sword?”

“Uh, the sword did,” she says.

“Mm-hm-hmmph-mmh-hmmmf,” says my sword.

“Stay quiet until I unwrap you,” I tell my sword. “I don’t need anybody finding out I have a magic sword.”

“A sword you shouldn’t have because you’re a kid?” asks Twes.

“Yeah, ‘cause you don’t give swords to kids.”

“I have like three swords.”

“Yeah,” I scoff. “And your dad’s a jerk who doesn’t care about putting you in danger.”

“That’s true, he is” Twes agrees.

“And you still didn’t bring a sword for yourself, did you?”

“I brought this.”

Twesnyu pulls a steel dirk out of the sheath behind her.

“Exactly!” I say. “You’re supposed to give a kid a big knife, not a sword!”

Twesnyu rolls her eyes and starts walking in a familiar direction.

“Come on, we’re going to Maple Grove.”

“What? You should have told me before. We’re gonna go right by my family’s crop-fields. My mom or older brother could be out there, and I don’t want them to see I have a freaking sword.”

“Then keep her wrapped up,” says Twes.

“If they find out about it you have to say she’s yours,” I say.

“Fine, sure, whatever.”

We see my brother weeding the corn plot when we walk by, but he just waves to us from a distance.

“Hey!” he calls. You two be careful, alright? There’s been reports of a smallboar wandering near these fields around dusktide.”

“We heard!” lies Twes. “And we’ll be careful.”

“Do you have weapons?” he asks.

“I have a strong steel dirk,” says Twes, “and we’ll be sure to come home before dusk.”

“As expected from the daughter of the Ebon Axe,” he says. “Keep my sister safe. And don’t forget about your walking staves. If you can keep a smallboar at a distance then they’re pretty quick to run away.”

I thank him and hurry Twesnyu along.

We reach the outer fields. We use a long plank to cross the perimeter ditch without getting muddy. I almost slip because of my clumsiness, but I’m close enough to jump to the far bank. When we pass a stand of maples, we finally decide to stop to unwrap my sword. I unwrap the sash and use it to hang her from my waist.

“Oh goodness,” says my sword. “That’s much better.”

“Sorry, Sapphy,” says Twes. “We really don’t want my dad to find out about you, so we have to keep you hidden near other people.”

“Sapphy?” I ask. “Did you just call the Sapphire Sword, the Blade of the Wastes, the Bane of Great Lū… did you call her ‘Sapphy?’”

“Yeah?” says Twes. “I thought she should have a nickname. And her first name is ‘Sapphire,’ isn’t it?”

“Oh-no-no,” says the sword. “Say my name like Emm did. Say the whole thing! That’s the kind of respect you mortals should give me. And to think Emm didn’t want to keep me a few minutes ago. Well, Emm, did you decide I was worthwhile because a nickname made you feel jealous?”

Jealous? My face flushes and my hands clench.

“Shut up, Sapphy,” I grumble. “I still don’t want you. I just want to go home, and have friends, and have fun. I don’t want to do hero stuff. I don’t want to fight a wild pig. I want to be normal.”

“Booo,” says Sapphy.

“Boo what?” I say. “You should be congratulating me for being more responsible than you.”

“Don’t be mean to Sapphy,” says Twes. “How would you like it if she said that you were unwanted?”

I roll my eyes.

“Fine. Sorry I guess.”

But all I can think about is how stupid and pointless this whole situation is. I could be a lot of things, but I’m not a Weaponkeeper. I was never supposed to become a Weaponkeeper. That kind of important role was supposed to be for powerful people—people like Twesnyu and her Weaponkeeper dad. 

Besides, Twesnyu clearly wants Sapphy. Sapphy would be happier if she was Twesnyu’s sword. Twesnyu should just take her back. Twesnyu just turns and walks deeper into Maple Grove.

I follow Twesnyu as the trees get denser and closer together. I notice how dark and scary the grove is getting. I see fewer and fewer maple trees as we near the center of the grove.

I wonder why Twesnyu acts so certain that I should have the Sapphire Sword. Even weirder, why does she think I’ll want to fix her problem? She can’t have given me the sword because she thought I’d find it useful. If she thought Sapphy was worthwhile, then she would have taken it for herself. If her problem needs a magic weapon to solve, then her dad should solve it.

Twesnyu’s behavior reminds me of the year she stole my job in the town festival. It was just before my family left Camhas to go to the capital. I was supposed to care for all the parade horses and even ride one to keep them in line. Until Twesnyu decided she wanted the job instead. She pretended to be all excited for the job in front of her dad, so he took the job away from me and gave it to her. She acted all excited every time he came around, but she didn’t care at all when he wasn’t there. She only liked one part of the job, and that was taunting me for not getting to do it.

So I don’t believe she gave me the sword to be nice? All I can think of is that she’s setting me up to fail, somehow. I can’t know what her real scam is until I find out what she wants me to do.

“What are we looking for?” I ask. 

“Be patient,” Twes says. “We’re almost there.”

“Why would you think I’m patient? What are you setting me up for?”

“Shh!” she scolds me. “I’m not setting you up, it’s just that we’re basically here. So I might as well show you the problem. We’re gonna sneak up to this ridge. Stay quiet, so it doesn’t hear us.”

“Hmm,” I grumble.

“Ooh, this is exciting” whispers Sapphy.

Twesnyu leads the way up the ridge, stepping to avoid brittle twigs and other detritus. I follow behind her, stepping where she steps and trying not to stumble. She stops and crouches down behind a fallen log at the ridge crest. I rest my hand on Sapphy, keeping her loose in her scabbard.

Twesnyu points, and we peer down into the gully on the other side.

At first I think we’re looking at a smallboar because it’s dog-sized and white. But I know it can’t be a smallboar because its face is covered in red bristles, it’s a little see-through, and it glows.

It’s a young soul-boar.

And worse than that, I know that it has to be dealt with. It’s close enough to attack my brother in the fields.And in dad’s stories, a soul-boar can only be harmed by magic. My brother doesn’t have disability magic, and obviously he doesn’t have one of the magic weapons either. He would be helpless.

Somebody’s gonna have to do something.